Insanity
by ShadowhunterOfGlass
Summary: Sometimes, I sit on the balcony, thinking about how easy it would be to end it all.


**A/N: So this is the full summary.**

**Scott contemplates suicide on a balcony, shortly after they arrive at the Professor's house as he decides he can't take it anymore, messed up by insanity he can't control. Told in his point of view. **

**Wow, this is a bit heavy for me, isn't it? I'm sorry I'm being so upsetting. If you can enjoy this fic, then please do. I have no idea where this came from. I found out what creepy pasta was, read some of it, then woke up in the middle of the night with this idea. Well, I always thought pasta was fuel, but not when it's creepy. And not fuel for FanFiction. Oh well, that's how things went.**

**I guess pasta makes me write emotional and teary fics. Hope you like! Please review me, I'm only a small writer who loves Power of Five. I like prompts and improvements that can be made. They induce happy dancing for the world to see! Well, my family to see. **

***Family slowly back away***

**Anyway this might be deleted so I guess it doesn't matter. **

**Disclaimer: I'm sorry, the famous best-selling authors own the rights to their books. They wouldn't dream of giving any to me. What? Of course I'm not trying to convince them to share! **

***cough cough* SHARE! *cough cough***

Sometimes, I hang my legs  
Over the edge of the balcony  
And think about  
How easy it would be  
To end it all.

Because what is there to live for  
When I'm clinging to the sanity  
That I can't even reach?

_You're insane, Scott. You don't know who you are, Scott._

Every night  
The bed transforms into  
A white, metal surgical table  
And I fall apart again  
Hearing screams  
That I know are mine.  
And the hot tears that fall  
From my face  
Blossom red like the blood  
That I lost.

_Don't cry, Scott. Crying is pathetic. You don't want to look weak, do you Scott?_

I look in the mirror  
And a person I don't recognise  
Stares back  
With a face too pale  
Eyes empty and scared  
They're very thin, with scars  
Flinching at their own reflection  
And tears stains trailing down their cheeks.  
I don't know them.

_You are weak, Scott. You're ruined._

So now  
Sitting on the balcony  
I pull off the bandages  
They insist I wear.  
I run my fingers up the scars.  
The others say I'll be fine  
They say it to reassure me  
Because they've seen me stare at the marks  
They say it because they think  
That they can heal me  
Well, wounds heal.  
But scars don't.  
Scars last forever.

_You won't heal, Scott. You're damaged, Scott._

How many have I got?  
Ten? Twenty?  
More.  
I never counted them.  
Up both arms.  
On my face.  
Across my stomach.  
Everywhere  
A constant reminder  
That I'm now just a doll  
That's been stitched up too much  
Beyond repair.

But my hands are quickly losing  
Their desperate grasp  
On sanity  
I can't hold on any more  
I'm falling to pieces.  
I'm dying.  
And nobody cares.

I stop gently sliding my finger  
Along them  
And press harder  
Squeezing tight.  
The familiar pain spikes up my arm.  
The one that used to consume me  
Turning me into a boy  
Who couldn't think about anything  
But the agony that wouldn't end.  
But I was that boy.  
I am that boy.  
I watch the crimson droplets  
Fall through the air  
And splash onto the concrete  
Down below.

And when the others' fingers  
Touch me  
I swear they're charged  
With electricity.  
And when they tell me  
That they never betrayed me  
There's always a tiny part of me  
That says they did.

_They don't trust you, Scott. They wouldn't care if you never came back. They won't miss you, Scott._

More tears join the scarlet puddle down below.

_You don't have your own mind, do you Scott? Yours is shattered, Scott. _

I pretend  
I'm fine.  
And I pretend  
That I don't care about the past.  
They don't know  
That behind my mask  
I'm screaming until I can't scream any longer.

And when they see me  
Staring at myself  
They ask  
Are you ok?  
And I say yes.  
Because it's so easy  
To convince them  
That I don't need to be comforted any more  
That I don't hurt  
When really, I hurt more than ever.

_Let's see them fix you now, Scott. How about we see them bandage you up now. All better, see Scott?_

And I still see her  
In the corner of my eye  
Laughing and laughing  
At what she did  
At the mess she made  
Because I'm just her play thing.

Let's play a game.  
Let's play a game called break Scott.  
Let's twist his mind.  
Let's tell him he's worthless.  
Let's convince him that he matters to no one.  
It's a fun game, isn't it?

Now let's hurt him.

Let's cut him.  
Let's electrocute him.  
Let's tear him apart  
Bit by bit.  
He won't be the same  
But that doesn't matter.  
Because he's only our toy.  
He's a no one.  
Scott doesn't matter.

_That was such a fun game to play._

It was fun when he almost killed someone.  
It was fun watching the guilt  
Slowly destroying him  
As if he hasn't got enough to deal with already.  
It still haunts him.  
It's _so_ fun.

So now  
Sitting on the balcony  
I stare at the rows of  
Punctures in my arms  
And remember the snaking drips  
In my wrist  
And I think about how  
Death  
Would be an easy escape.

Every day  
I hear them whispering  
The things I dread to hear  
And bring back horrible memories  
That I've tried so hard to leave behind.  
But not hard enough  
Because nothing Scott does is enough, is it?

_You're crazy, Scott. We tore you apart. You're broken, Scott. You can't be put back together. _

But the voices telling me  
That death would be easy  
Isn't theirs.  
It's mine.

Because what is the point of life  
If you don't feel like you're living?  
What's the point  
If consciousness is just filled with pain?

So now  
Sitting on the balcony  
I watch my legs hanging  
So high above the ground.  
Maybe  
When the breeze comes  
I should let it carry me  
Through the gentle air.  
Just to end all the suffering.  
It would be so easy  
It would be so simple  
To end it all.

**I almost cried writing it. I know, soppy TheSixthGatekeeper. He didn't jump. Obviously. Or he wouldn't be in the rest of the books.  
Who else wants to jump in and pull him off the balcony?  
*raises hand***

**Please leave me a review!**

**TheSixthGatekeeper**

**Xx**


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